Everything is Temporary [for now]

Somedays you feel like you have fallen so far in your aims and you find yourself looking down the barrel of the gun.

Everyday you know that life goes on and you do not have to be completely sure of how tomorrow will be.

Discussing your first world woes with the people important to you they offer feedback and provide you with the idea that everything is temporary.

In a fit of rage, disgust and perhaps even a touch of ‘teenager’ you find that your manner sees you laying in bed contemplating your future. Moments later you realise that you have been with yourself and your thoughts for the large portion of the day. You messaging your friends, finding out how they are faring, wondering if their truth is censored…your responses to their questions are all too familiar. As if you were programmed at birth, you spit out the same answers that are expected – you do not wish to alarm anyone.

The conversation continues and you wonder if it is time for bed. Consulting the clock you decide that it is too early to consider retreating to the other side of your bed. Sprawled out like a starfish on your laptop you find your headphones and place them on your head. This action has dulled the drone of the air conditioner and suppressed your thoughts. That tiny act of placing the headphones on your head has acted as a shield from the universe…well you thought.

In an attempt to feel better you navigate your music collection to the Schubert Lieder. A playlist you made when you were feeling extra ordinary.

You click play. The universe crashes. Your face is as blank as Taylor Swift’s idea of a blank space for an ex-lover, or her next lover. Tears crash and fall down your face. You wonder what this is. Wasn’t this place, sprawled on your bed with your headphones on a safe place?

Safe from what? You find yourself wiping the tears away considering how music can have this power over you. Uncertainty continues to find you as the next track, similar to the first hits like a wave of emotion. Then you remember. This is not meant to be a safe place, this is meant to be a place of healing. Music will hit you like a bullet only to then create the bandage that contains the blood.

Move on, find a new Lieder. Move on, find a new day.

Amanda.

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Hey guys, I just felt like doing some creative writing. I am fine. I’m not attention seeking. 🙂